Chicago, 1925
by ShellyLove
Summary: James and Helen are caught up in the underground chaos of Chicago in 1925. Crime bosses, speakeasies, jazz music, and so much more.
1. Chapter 1

_Chicago, 1925_

It's warm, but a soft breeze chills the air of the Chicago streets. It's pitch black in the alley, but the couple know they're in the right place. The man lifts a hand, knocking on a heavy door hidden in shadows. The woman stands by his side, her arm looped through his as they wait.

"Helen, are you sure about this?" James murmured his fingers interlaced with hers in the shadows.

The woman chuckled as she replied, "Am I sure about meeting Al Capone? Honestly James, you act like I have it all planned out."

James turned to her, the teasing twinkle in her eyes dragging a laugh out of him as well. A loud slam turned their attention back to the door, where light poured out from a small slit. A pair of menacing eyes peered out, watching them closely.

James reached into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket and held a small white card up for the eyes to see. The card was an ace of spades, given to them by their contact who'd set up this meeting.

The peephole was shut and the sound of a bolt slamming back was heard through the thick door. A strong arm pushed the door open and stepped back to let them in. James led Helen through the door into the warm glow of the makeshift bar's small entryway.

A young black man dressed in waiter's attire stepped forward and motioned for them to follow him. James placed his hand on Helen's lower back as they made their way into the main room. A bar ran alongside one wall, three bartenders serving at least a sixty men and women. A stage took up the left side of the room, a pale, blonde woman dressed in a shimmering red gown sang to the slow jazz melody created by the band behind her. Many couples were swaying drunkenly on the dance floor, lulled into a dream-like state by the woman's deep sultry voice.

Helen and James followed the waiter through a door behind the bar, once closed the music and chinking of glasses couldn't be heard. The waiter held out his arm, motioning for them to continue down the hallway. The waiter stepped back through the door, his footsteps swallowed by the lively noise of a speakeasy at work.

James cocked an eyebrow at Helen, who smiled and took his arm once more and proceeded down the carpeted hallway. The smell of cigars and liquor filled their nostrils as they entered a rather large sitting room. Men dressed in black suits, Helen counted four of them, were playing cards in a corner oblivious to their entrance. James, cautious as always, followed Helen to a deep red loveseat. The pair sat, Helen sat one leg draped over the other leaning ever so slightly into James, her hand resting on his lower thigh. James draped an arm behind her back playing with the red curls that had slipped from the loose bun atop her head.

Helen tensed slightly as she felt James' hand travel down her back, his long fingers tracing the straps of her black evening gown. This was not the time, nor the place for him to be handsy. In response Helen trailed her hand up his thigh, just skimming the front of his black pants as she made her way up to his bow tie straightening it. Her nails scratched lightly at his neck. Biting back a small groan, James threw her a promising glance as a door across the room opened.

A larger man, dressed in a black pin-stripe suit entered the room. His dark hair hid beneath a black fedora, scars running the length of the left side of his face. He walked casually, as though he had all the time in the world. Helen and James stood as the man approached them, a cigar hanging precariously from his lips.

He held out his hand to James as he said, "James Watson, pleasure to meet you. Glad the two of you could make it this evening."

James gripped the man's hand, shaking it in earnest. Al Capone was every detective's fantasy case and James was in awe of how this man continued to elude the law. It was damn impressive if he admitted it to himself.

The notorious mob boss turned to Helen, who held out a hand and smiled broadly as she said, "Thank you for making time to see us, Mr. Capone."

He took her hand in his, placing a light kiss on the skin of her hand. He chuckled, his laugh a deep baritone. "Please, Dr. Magnus, call me Al," he replied motioning for them to take a seat.

Helen smiled kindly, "Then please, call me Helen."

She and James settled back on the small sofa, instinctively interlacing their hands. Al laced his fingers together, rings glinting in the light of the lamps. He watched them carefully, his dark eyes friendly as he waited for them to get comfortable.

"Would you care for a drink?" He asked, smiling over his hands.

James nodded as he said, "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Al turned his head to the men playing cards in the corner and said, "Demetri, would you grab a bottle of my best Scotch and three glasses?"

A tall, dark-headed man rose from the table immediately, moving to a large cabinet in the corner. The sound of clinking glass echoed throughout the room as Demetri set down a large bottle of the brown liquor and three glasses.

"Anything else, sir?" Demetri asked his dark eyes on his boss.

Al raised his eyes to him and smiled, "No, that'll be all, Demetri."

Al poured their drinks and handed each a glass before settling back in his chair. Helen sipped her Scotch slowly, too much and she'd be worthless for this meeting. Helen already liked him, the power he had over Chicago didn't go to his head. He was working for his people, albeit illegally. They didn't call him the modern day Robin Hood for nothing.

James took a large sip of Scotch, smiling as it burned down his throat. It was in James' nature to be cautious in every situation; meeting with Chicago's organized crime boss had him positively on edge. However, with another sip of smooth liquor he was beginning to relax.

"So what can I do for the Sanctuary?" Al asked, setting his half empty glass aside.

Helen set hers down beside his, red lipstick marring the clean glass. He was straight to business, she was quite sure if he weren't he'd be behind bars by now.

"We thought you may be interested in helping us acquire land and invest in starting a Network of Sanctuaries across the globe," Helen explained, her blue eyes watching Al intently.

Al laughed, "Straight to the point, I like that. Now, Helen, what makes you think I would want to invest in your Sanctuaries?"

James remained quiet, draining his glass before setting it down on the table. He felt relaxed, simply buzzed but he knew this was Helen's show. He was there merely because she was; he had nowhere else to be rather than by her side. The Sanctuary Network needed to be spread throughout the world, doing so would take money, vast amounts of it. Helen's farther Gregory had created the London Sanctuary many years ago, but James knew that one Sanctuary couldn't help the abnormals that spanned the globe.

Al waited for Helen to speak, his eyes watching her cautiously. She was no ordinary dame, he'd heard about her through his contacts overseas. He'd never thought she'd come looking for help from him, when he'd heard she was trying to get a meeting with him he'd jumped at the chance.

Helen smiled under his gaze as she said, "I know how passionate you are about helping your people, Al. It's very admirable the work you do, albeit not by the book. I am simply asking for you to aid your people once more."

Her eyes peered at him as she raised her glass to her lips once more. She watched his brain turn over her words, finding the hidden meaning within them. He blinked slowly, before nodding slightly his eyes moving to his hands and back to Helen's.

Al turned to his men, "Boys, could you give us a minute alone?"

A chorus of "sure Al," came from the table in the corner as the men filed out back into the bar.

James his inhibitions fading shifted in his seat, draping his arm around Helen's shoulders, pulling her against him. His fingers traced small patterns on the skin of her right shoulder. Helen, feeling a small buzz herself leaned into him, her now free hand resting on his thigh.

Al stood and began pacing back and forth across the carpet as he spoke.

"So I'm an abnormal?" he asked quietly.

This time it was James who answered, "Yes, a diacon. A diacon is subspecies of human that suffers from uncontrollable bouts of rage causing the glands in your hands to release radiation when you're angry."

Al nodded rapidly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants as he continued to pace. Al knew he couldn't have been normal, his rage wasn't normal. Finally, he had a clarity that some if not most of his anger was due to this abnormality.

Al stilled and turned to them, his voice even as he asked, "So if I agree to help you, will you help me control this? I've hurt people before, friends and family."

Helen nodded as she said, "Al, that is the purpose of the Sanctuary. To find and aid abnormals, keep them safe, help them understand themselves."

A smile graced the lips of Al Capone, and he crossed the space between them and announced, "Whatever you need, I'll be glad to help."

Helen and James got to their feet quickly, animatedly thanking Al for what he was doing for them.

He waved away their thanks, saying "I will always help my people, no need for thanks. Now, enough business. You two head back out to the bar and enjoy yourselves. Everything is on me tonight."

"Thank you, Al. You have no idea what this means to me," Helen murmured, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek.

James took Al's hand and said, "We'll be in touch quite soon. It will take some time to find locations and heads for the Sanctuaries. We owe you a favor, Al."

The bigger man clapped James on the back, "I'll hold you to that, James. Now go on, take that fine lady and have yourselves a good night."

James took Helen by the hand and led her from the room, his lips close to her ear as he whispered, "I cannot wait to get my hands on you, love."

Helen's stomach flipped, her hand trailing across James' forearm as they returned to the noise of the bar. Their meeting had been a complete success, now it was time to experience a little American fun. She was positively giddy with excitement as the band started up a slow song.

xxxx


	2. Chapter 2

Helen threw the shot back, closing her eyes as the whiskey burned down her throat. Only one glass of Scotch and a shot of whiskey and she knew she was done. No sense in getting so pissed she couldn't have a good time. Helen turned to James, who was on his second shot of whiskey. Helen drank him in, he did look quite handsome but of course James always looked his best. His short dark hair remained in place even after he dragged his hand through it. His chin and jaw were scruffy; he'd skipped shaving this morning.

Helen didn't mind one bit as she raised a hand to his cheek feeling the tiny hairs scratch her palm. James' dark eyes moved to hers as he set his glass down on the bar. A smile crept across his mouth, his thin lips spreading into a teasing smirk. His large hands came to rest on her thighs, gripping the thin material of her dress. James leaned towards her, capturing her lips softly. Helen returned the soft pressure; all thought flying from her mind as her body relaxed. His kisses had always had a calm almost drugging effect on her. His lips traveled along her jaw slowly until her reached the spot just below her ear. His tongue flicked out, eliciting a small sigh from Helen.

James put his mouth to her ear, his deep voice whispering, "Dance with me."

He offered her a hand as he got to his feet, she took it immediately. James led her to the center of the small dance floor, couples around them barely dancing as the alcohol consumed their bodies. James laid his left hand on the swell of her hip and laid their interlaced hands on his chest as they slowed to the rhythm of the music. The music poured through the room, accompanied by the beautiful singer's voice once more. Helen's eyes never moved from James' as they moved slowly in a circle, the world always seemed to drop away when their eyes met.

Helen's arm lay draped around his shoulders, her hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. James needed to be closer to her, his hand on her hip moved to the small of her back pressing her body flush against his. Helen couldn't help the small gasp that passed her lips; James had every nerve in her body aflame, his touch spreading fire throughout her body. James lowered his head, kissing her neck slowly making his way up the column of her throat to her lips. Helen met his lips feverishly, her body demanding more but somewhere in the back of her inebriated mind she knew they were in view of the entire room.

They kissed lazily, their interlaced hands separating to explore each other. Helen's free hand rested against his chest, her fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. James's hand moved to meet his other one, lacing his hands behind her back as her tongue dragged softly across his bottom lip. Opening his mouth to her on a quiet groan he fisted her dress. Helen's tongue massaged his slowly, growing wet as he tugged harder at her dress.

Helen's hands moved to his bowtie, untying it so it simply lay against his white shirt. She continued to kiss him as she undid the top button of his dress shirt revealing the beginnings of James' chiseled collarbone. James continued to kiss her, one hand pulling her red curls free so they cascaded down her back and shoulders. Helen moaned into his mouth when his hand buried itself in her hair. Alcohol swam through their veins, marring the pair's morals just enough that neither pulled away.

Not one pair of drunken eyes turned away from the pair, it was as though time had stilled once their dance began. One could not tell where the man ended and the woman began. Only the music continued, twining the lovers even closer together in its seductive embrace. The singer's voice seemed to ignite the alcohol induced embers into a roaring flame that couldn't be tamed.

The loud sound of crashing wood broke the spell as policemen rushed in from behind the bar. Chaos ensued as everyone ran for the doors. James grabbed Helen's hand and pulled her through a door off to the left of the stage hoping it was an exit. The pair stumbled backstage, the shouts of the police muffled by the closed door. James stopped, his eyes scanning the darkness for a way out. Spotting the singer in red dart out a door to their right, he followed her dragging Helen along by the hand. The cool night air filled their lungs as they ran out onto a deserted sidewalk, the singer from the club nowhere to be found.

Not wishing to be arrested by policeman combing the streets surrounding the building James wrapped his arm around Helen's shoulders and pulled her down a dark alley lit by only a small streetlight. Once concealed in the shadows Helen began to laugh, she leaned against the concrete wall of a building and nearly doubled over in laughter. James joined her, his deep laugh echoing through the night their hands intertwined once more.

Soon their laughter ebbed, the high of danger passed as their breathing slowed. James looked down at her, the glow of the streetlight casting just enough light to illuminate her. Her chest was heaving as she breathed, her lips still swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were on him, her arousal returning full force as he peered down at her in the darkness.

It was Helen that pulled his jacket from his shoulders, tossing it aside as she ran her hands over his arms and shoulders. James moved his hands to her hips, pressing her back against the side of the building as he moved to kiss her neck. Helen's hands ran through his thick, dark locks as he nipped at the skin of her neck.

Helen moaned, her words breathy as she said, "James, I want you."

James pulled back and looked at her; her blue eyes were almost black in the dim alley. He was positive it had nothing to do with the lighting. He knew what lust looked like in the eyes of Helen Magnus. He kissed her, firmly placing his lips against hers. Her hands immediately went to the buttons of his shirt; she got three undone before James' hands stilled her actions. She made a noise of frustration against his mouth.

James moved his lips to her ear, "Let's get back to the hotel before we undress each other further, love."

In response Helen moved her lips to his neck, running her tongue along his collarbone as she murmured, "take me here, now."

James' eyes closed as she went back to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. She tugged it out of his pants and ran her hands over his chest and stomach as he threw it to the ground. He hissed as she ran her tongue over his nipples. James loved the feel of her mouth on his body, the way her lips pursed kissing his skin, the way her teeth nipped lightly on his neck. If she wanted to be taken in a dark alley, then by God he would take her.

James caught her hands at the waistband of his trousers, he gripped her wrists and raised them above her head using one hand to pin them against the side of the building. She moaned at his dominance, growing wetter as he trailed his large hand down her neck gripping her breast. James kissed her heatedly, his stubble scratching Helen's chin as his tongue danced with hers.

"This damn dress," he murmured, his hands finding little skin as most of her body was covered by the shimmering black gown.

Helen sighed against his lips, "Rip the bloody thing, James."

James gripped the material of the dress at her thigh and tugged. A loud ripping sound echoed through the night as James tore away Helen's dress from her ankles to her upper thigh. The cool night air chilled Helen's legs, but then she felt his warm hand on her thigh and all sense was lost. His hands moved upward, his fingers slipping under the remnants of her dress. He hooked his fingers in her soaking black underwear and dragged them down her legs. Helen kicked them to the side and pulled his lips to hers once more.

James' hand moved to her inner thigh, her wetness covering his fingers as he reached her sex. He cupped her, spreading her arousal before slipping two fingers inside her. Helen broke the kiss on a loud moan, her hands gripping his shoulders as James fingered her. Her hips ground against his hand as he rubbed her inner walls. His teeth tugged at her neck and jaw as she moaned in his ear.

"You've been wanting me for awhile, darling. You're so wet," James murmured, his words causing Helen to moan in response.

She arched against him as his thumb found her throbbing clit, pressing down as he drove his fingers into her folds.

"James," Helen moaned, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as his tongue dipped into the valley between her breasts until he reached the plunging neckline of her dress.

Helen's thighs clenched around his hand as she came, moaning his name loudly. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and finally her lips as she came down. Removing his hand from her he pressed his body against her, devouring her mouth. Helen's hands made quick work of his trousers and soon they and his underwear were bunched around his ankles. James pulled her dress straps down, freeing her breasts to the cool summer air.

His mouth trailed down her chest, taking a nipple in his mouth as he lifted her from the ground pressing her back against the cool wall. Her skin was feverish against his, she moaned as he switched to her other nipple covering it with his hot mouth. Helen dragged his lips from her breasts to cover them with hers in a rough kiss. James teased her entrance with his erection, barely entering her and pulling out. Helen groaned in frustration, pulling his hair urging him to get on with it.

James hissed and buried himself in her in one hard thrust. James moved his hands from her thighs to grip her ass as he used the building for leverage as he drove into her. Helen moaned loudly, her mind no longer making the connection that they could be overheard. James kissed every inch of her he could reach, yearning to move his hands over her body. She met each thrust, squeezing her muscles around his cock causing James to groan from deep within his throat.

"Helen, God," James growled as he drove into her, taking all of her weight as he thrust into her wet heat.

Helen moaned in response, the sound of her name on his lips sending her body into overdrive. She was close, God he felt so good within her.

The dim light from the streetlight allowed James to watch as she came undone. Her eyes closed in bliss, her mouth in the shape of an "o" as she fell apart in his arms. James thrust into her once more, coming hard spilling himself inside her.

His head fell against her breasts in exhaustion, still holding her in his arms. Her fingers massaged his head as he caught his breath. A small smile played across Helen's lips; how she loved being taken against a wall it was so bloody fantastic. James raised his eyes to hers, leaning up to kiss her softly.

He lowered her to the ground, slipping out of her. James tugged on his pants and threw on his white shirt, laying his jacket over his arm. Helen righted what was left of her dress and kissed James full on the mouth, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. James kissed her with all he had, his arms circling her waist lifting her off the ground. The pair was in full view of the empty sidewalk, but neither cared. James set her down and dragged his lips from hers, a curious look on his face.

"What was that for, darling?" James asked, interlacing their hands as he looked at her.

Helen grinned broadly as she said, "For always being the man I need. I love you, James Watson."

James smiled, "And I love you, always," his words ringing through the night as they strolled down the moonlit street.

Helen lowered her head to his shoulder, feeling his arm circle her waist as they walked. She breathed him in, the one constant in her chaotic existence. He was always whoever she needed him to be whether it be a protector, colleague, friend or lover. She loved him with her whole heart, and she knew he felt the same. James began to hum as they turned a corner, heading towards the hotel where a large bed awaited both of them.

xxxx


End file.
